Mongol Wrath
by omgflyingpapaya
Summary: The English fight a war to drive out its Mongol Invaders, but through Mongol tactics, quickly, victory favors these nomadic invaders. Now Hayes and his companions must fight for home and country against this unstopable tide. PLZ R
1. Chapter 1

Note: This is just an introduction chapter. It will get more interesting as we go on. But for now lets just meet the main players in this little game called war.

March to Victory

The light was almost blinding as the sun began its slow decent into the horizon. As far as one could see, a sea of living metal marched down, across a seemingly never ending, series of rolling plains. This army of 12,600 English, long sword men, Pike men, Long bowmen, and Knights, was under the command of King Richard the Lion heart. Their objective: to route the the Mongol army from the east. With the Mongol forces estimated at a mere 6,500, Richard's army seemed to be a bit of an overkill. But then again, Richard most never underestimated his enemy.

Deep into the left flank, one footman made his way to war accompanied by his five of his life long companions. To his left was perhaps his closest friend, Norvin. A mammoth of a man at 6'3 and 250lbs. Norvin was a force to be reckoned with. Norvin was actually of Norwegian decent with Blond hair and blue eyes that always seemed calm and at rest. Not that nationality mattered to anyone.

To his right were two brothers and also close friends Irving, and Irwin. Both shared similar features, both had dirty blond hair and light, cheery, brown eyes though Irwin seemed to be thinning fast. They always worked as a team always trying to make light of any situation, a valuable aspect that helped everyone around them. All three of them were long sword men.

Lastly, the two men behind him were Burne and Everett. A bit of a round man Burne always had a bit of a smug look about him. His hair was black and he carried a small button nose. Not able to handle a sword with any efficiency Burne was pike men. Every one who knew him, including himself, though called him "King" because he always claims that he's "the last living descendant of King Arthur." Everett was a lean, but strong man with a light build. Everett held himself high, and let his red hair hang freely down to his shoulders. He had a very annoyed attitude, often complaining of his life in the service. This is why Everett was a long bow men, at least that way he didn't have to see who he was shooting.

"We take them down hard and fast, right pal?" Norvin Joked.

"Aye, Norvin that we will, hard and fast," Irving answered

"Right, hard and fast!" repeated Irwin. Norvin let out a deep laugh.

"Hey, look to the banner." the banner was the communication system of an army. It tells men when to retreat, charge, or halt amongst other things. "I think it's time to set up camp for the night." Everett explained.

"Good. So who will set up the king's tent tonight?" asked Burne, jokingly throwing his pack at Everett.

"The king can move his lazy ass and set his own tent, Burne." Joked Irwin

"Yeah, set your own tent, and give us a rest," Complained Everett rolling his eyes at Burne, "I'm tired of doing it."

"What do you mean your tired of it? I always end up doing it myself anyways," muttered Burne.

The word was spread, and the army settled in for the night the group set up their tents in their own little circle, consisting of six, one-man tents. Night fell quickly on the Englishmen, bringing a cold autumn wind to the camp. When the assembling was completed Irving, Irwin, Burne, Everett, and Norvin all came out of their corresponding tents, and gathered around their fire pit. Norvin occupied himself roasting a pig in the spit, while everyone else talked around the fire.

"So, how many do you think you're gonna' kill?" inquired Irving

"29,000 at least. I'd say," Replied Irwin throwing his voice to a deep and authoritative tone.

"Oh, really? Are you talking about Mongols, or mom's pansies?"

"Hey, they were asking for it!" Irwin rose above Irving's seat, glaring at him with the intent to kill.

"What is you two doing?" asked Norvin, dumbfounded by their actions

"Oh, nothin' Norvin. You just tend to your pig, alright?" Irwin said, patting Norvin on the back reassuringly.

"You know, you should try to enlighten him with your jokes. So he doesn't get any more confused then he already is," said the man from sixth tent, as he emerged.

"Ah, the big man is out," Irwin exclaimed, looking at the man of the sixth tent.

"What you mean? I've been out whole time," asked Norivn, once again confused.

"No, not you Norvin. I meant Hayes," replied Irwin. Norvin's lack of understanding was beginning to get on his nerves.

"Hey, how's the pig comin'?"

"Be done real soon. Is looking good, yes?"

"Looks like heaven to me," answered Burne.

He and Everett had been staring at the pig the whole time, their eyes filled with hunger. Hayes sat down next to Norvin. At six feet with a strong build he was a 'big man' as Irwin said. But that name was only for Norvin. Like Burne and Everett, Hayes was starving, his blue eyes fixed on the succulent pig roasting before him.

Feeling satisfied with his work, Norvin removed the pig from the spit, and set it to the side to cool, not that it took long in the cold night. As everyone stuffed their faces with roasted pig flesh, Hayes stood up to make a toast gathering their attention.

"My dear friends . . . ," Hayes started

"Oh how formal, what did someone die or something?"

"Not now Irwin." Hayes cut back in. "This time tomorrow, not all of us may be here to celebrate victory. So I'm taking the time now to tell you that no matter what, we fight, we die, and we live together"

"Aye" cheered the group

"TO WAR!" Hayes shouted

"TO WAR!" everyone cheered, except for Everett, who was still making a pig out of himself; eating the pig meat off of everyone's plate.


	2. To War

Note: I'd just like to thank everyone who is proofreading this. Without them there would be a lot less commas

TO WAR!

-

Morning came and the camp, almost instantaneously sprung to life. Tents were being broken down, fires put out, and the remnants of last night pig were discarded. Not that there were too many bones left, because Everett actually ate some. And almost choked on one.

As the army made its way north, to engage the enemy, King Richard went over the battle plan one last time with his two closest knights.

"Yes Lord, the main bulk will be stationed in the valley, Pike men in front followed by long swordsmen." stated Abbot. Gold hair flew down from the bottom of his helmet, which hid the charming face of a wealthy noble man. "And likewise all long bowmen will be in the hills, to the left and rear of our ranks, the elevation will give them increased range," he said pleased with his analogy.

"Hmm, yes indeed. Anything you wish to add Gomer?" Asked the King, as he adjusted his crown, which sat comfortably on a set of long brown curly hair.

"No sir. That just about sums it up my Lord," Replied Gomer. Equally as rich and handsome as Abbot, he seemed to always be uncertain in his reactions, and is often seen running his hand threw his short golden brown hair. "The individual captains will take of the fine details, I believe."

"Good, everything is falling into place." Richard said. Turning to face his army he rallied his men for battle, "Men, let us make haste. For the eve of battle is upon us! I know many of you are scared, but fear not! For the all mighty Pope himself said that he who should be by some chance slain in battle, shall be relieved of sin. And shall be joined with our Lord and savior! Forward to victory!" Richard's speech elicited many cheers and praises in the Lords name.

-

Having marched over vast hills for most of the day, the English army reached a long somewhat narrow valley. There the army was brought to a halt as this was to be the place where swords shall clash, and mighty warriors die in their Lord's name.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm nervous as hell about the upcoming battle," Irwin stated nervously.

"Your not the only one. I'm so scared I'm on the verge of soiling my armor," Irving said, patting Irwin on the back.

"Well then, I hope you pack a spare suit 'cause I'm not cleaning it again, like last time. God, that thing stunk to high heaven," Irwin replied, pinching his nose with his thumb and index finger.

"There they go again." Everett sighed. Arching backwards to stretch his back, Everett saw a most unwelcome sight.

"Hey, guys. What's up? You ready or what?" asked a rather short man, his voice high and irritating.

"Hello Lesly," everyone said in a mono toned response.

"Dear god," Everett whispered to himself. "As if the comedy twins over there weren't trouble enough."

Everett's comment struck hard with Hayes, both him and Lesly have a similar past, and he knows that even though Lesly seems joyful and happy he is really sad over past events that ruined his life. Both Hayes and Lesly came from a small English town, where there was little care for war and violence. But during one the many wars between England and their enemy of France from across the sea, France invaded their town and both their families were killed in the take over. Hayes was fourteen at the time and was used to death in the world, and although the lose was a grievance he was able to recover, with the help of a close friend. But Lesly had no real friends, and at only nine the hit was hard on him.

"What was that Everett? Oh well never mind. Is it ok if I station here?" he questioned the group, his words bouncy and energetic.

"But Lesly, don't you have your own station, over their?" Hayes asked, motioning to the left flank.

"Yeah Hayes, I do, but they said I'd be of better use with you." he said taking a quick drink from his flask carried on his belt.

"Well then, that's their lose, feel free to stay with us Lesly, we'd be glad to have you fight along side us," Hayes said saluting the young soldier.

"Yeah, just don't be surprised if you get shot in the back by some unlucky chance," Everett remarked to himself, shifting his weight to one leg.

"Cut it out Everett," Hayes almost hissed, as Norvin and Lesly looked on confused by their need for privacy. "It's bad enough his own men abandoned him. Let's just try to make him feel welcome, or you may find it to be yourself struck in the back. Okay?"

–

"Sire, all troops have reached position. Enemy spotted at the opposite side of the valley," reported Abbot, dismounting from his black steed, and kneeling before his King.

"Good. How are their numbers?"

"Just as the scouts described sir: the entire army resides on horse, each one equipped with bow and sword, some have also, spears and shields."

"I see. Tell the men to lock shields, turtle formation, and set the pike men up to repel the charge."

"It shall be done my Lord." Remounting Abbot rode off to the to inform the captains.


	3. Battle is Joined

Battle is Joined

Riding down the center hill that served as Richard's command post, Sir Abbot rode down to the gathered captains at the base of the hill, awaiting his command. Reigns tight in his hands, he looks down at his white steed, its silky main hidden by battle armor. Reaching the base of the hill everyone exchange brief greetings, then Abbot relayed the king's orders.

"Lock your shields men! Turtle formation!" he barked, not even bothering to dismount. Then he abruptly turned around and traveled back up the hill from which he came.

-

"Aw, shit!" Burne yelled realizing he was the only pike man left that hadn't manned position in the front lines, "I gotta get up to the front guys, be seein' you guys, right after we win this fucking fight!" And without waiting for a reply Burne was off to the front.

The remainder of Hayes' friends, Lesly included, all stood in an awkward silence. All were tense in anticipation over the upcoming battle. Then riding in from the left side of the field came their group commander, addressing his men he yelled out

"Turtle formation men, were gonna let them come to us!" Turtle formation is medieval technique in which all footmen bring their shields together in order to form a large turtle like shell around the men. Such techniques were used to deflect oncoming arrows by defending forces. In a practiced form all the men brought about their shields and locked into formation, the first row kneeling to provide extra cover. Inside the shell Hayes couldn't see anything beyond his shield. The formation's one downside, the men can't see for themselves, they had to rely on their commander to tell them when to break, because if they were to break too early, they would be decimated by arrows, to late and the enemy foot men will be on top of them before they could draw arms.

-

Looking down the shaft of the arrow Everett could see the charging Mongols. _Just a little closer,_ he thought. Seconds passed, the men were tense with anticipation. Finally Gomer yelled "folly" and reflexively Everett raised the bow several degrees and let loose his arrow, joining a thousand others, as they soared into the air and onto the charging Mongols. But the horse men were riding to far apart. Many men missed their marks, their arrows lost in the cloud of dust brought on by the charge. Stringing another arrow, the men lowered their elevation to compensate for now shortened gap, and waited.

"Folly, fire at will!" Gomer commanded. He could see all too clearly now, the ineffectiveness of their longbow men. His thought ran wild with ridicule. How could he not have foreseen this? It was so obvious. Oh what a humbling moment this was for him. But his pride could wait, he had to inform the king of their, no his, misjudgment.

–

Down in the valley the charging Mongols were a rolling thunder to men hidden, sheltered beneath the shell. Inside Hayes could see Lesly through the dim lighting of the shell. With eyes closed, head down, and rear in the air, Lesly was the poster child for a scared recruit. Then the call was given: Break form! Thousands of shields were brought down to their master's side, the final swords were drawn, and the enemy was fast approaching. At his side Hayes could see Lesly, face now calm and composed. Turning to him Lesly smiled, then turned back and pulled down the visor to his helmet.

Looking back, Hayes found the Mongols much closer now. They were just about to clash with the front lines . . . and with Burne! Where was he anyway? Looking at the front, Hayes spotted Burne just as the first horse man jumped.

Burne looked almost gleeful as he skewered a horse as it leaped over him, blood spewing all over his face. Releasing his hold, the speared horse landed on the pike. It was thrusted upward, impaling the rider as he bounced forward from the impact. Eyes cold and glassy, the rider was dead.

Thousands of horses now scaled the living wall, many receiving the same fate as Burne's, but many more went unhindered, A few even went to trample the man under him. Crushing bones and spewing blood over the dry earth.

With the pike men breached and the longbow men ineffective the task was left to sword men to finish the job. Charging the now rampaging Mongols the two forces clashed. Bodies were thrown into air in the initial collision. The horses upon which the Mongols rode fought with the same intense ferocity as their riders. Many wore spikes and horns attached to the front and sides of their head, and would swing in an arch from side to side, bashing in skulls, breaking bones, and spraying blood upon surrounding combatants.

In the beginning Hayes formed a small group comprised of Norvin, Lesly, Irving, Irwin, and himself. Now as the battle raged Irving and Irwin became missing, separated when a rider rode right through them, Lesly had been thrown to the ground in a haze, but Norvin acted quickly lunging his sword into the horse's chest and silted the rider's through with his dagger.

Now there were three of them well, two actually. Lesly was still unconscious. Now the two of them continued to battle the mounted menace. Hayes swung the broad side of his sword at the kneecap of an approaching horse. Falling in pain its rider jumped off, and took his sword and shield of his horse's hide. Staring at each other Hayes mind drifted away from the battle, to his home, his childhood home.

Waking from the dream ayes saw the mountless rider charged at Hayes blindly, his sword swinging madly the whole time as their distance decreased. When the two men came to close quarters the Mongol swung hard in a large vertical sweep as to split Hayes in two, but he moved too slow, for as he swung Hayes dodged, stepping to his side. Standing parallel to the now open Mongol, Hayes swiftly brought down his sword and severed the man's head. Standing over the decapitated body of his adversary Hayes muttered to himself "Stupid Mongol."

Turning back to the now semiconscious Lesly, he was about to help him up when Hayes was startled by an alien hand on his shoulder. Turning around he swiftly brought his sword around to meet this new foe, only to find it to be Norvin.

Bent over and out of breath, he was stained all over with blood, little of it his own. Between his panting he smiled and said "Horsemen running back down valley, we peruse them now. Hey, Hayes we do good yes?" "Yeah, Norvin, we do good." Hayes smiled as he spoke. He couldn't help but think about it. Norvin the bravest, fierce, and strongest of possibly the entire English army, and yet his English was so bad, he couldn't even get his tenses straight


End file.
